


Were You Expecting Flowers or Something?

by ms45



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms45/pseuds/ms45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My contribution to Fenris Porn Week... or Isabela Porn Week, it's all good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Were You Expecting Flowers or Something?

“Oh,  _I_ could give  _you_  something to split down the middle, Fen- “

The pirate gave an abrupt  _awk!_ as she suddenly bumped into the warrior’s back.

“All right.”

Isabela was very briefly confused – for seven years or more she’d been feeding him double entendres, single entendres and outright requests to no more response than an egg. “Beg pardon?”

“I said, all right. Be at the mansion at sundown.” He walked off without looking back.

~

She very briefly considered not going to the mansion –  _I’ll show him!_ \- but she hadn’t become the Queen of the Eastern Seas by not jumping on opportunities, and she wasn’t entirely sure she’d get this one again.

Besides, she had to admit, Fenris in command mode sent shivers down her spine.

So it was that she leapt over the roofs of Hightown at dusk, enjoying the view of ‘legitimate business’ in a supposedly respectable neighbourhood, finally arriving at the old mansion and swinging down through a hole in the roof.

She tiptoed silently down the hallway, hiding in the lengthening shadows. Feeling her way around the doorjamb, she slipped into the great hall, eyes sharpened for signs of life. Satisfied that her arrival was unannounced, she began to creep up the staircase only to shriek “FUCK!” as a clawed hand grasped her neck.

“Do not presume to surprise me,” Fenris growled, his leather armour blending eerily with the filth of the walls.

“You’ve missed your calling. Have you ever considered–“ The sentence was cut off as Fenris shoved her to her knees. “Ow!”

“From now on when you are in my house you will obey my orders. Unless you want me to toss you into the town square as naked as a jay.”

“Sir-yes-SIR!” said Isabela, giving a smartarse mock salute as she did, but feeling a sharp tug in her groin at the same time. 

“Unlace your stays.”

“But sir,” putting her hand over her cleavage, “my maidenly virtue –” Fenris reached down and yanked her bandanna over her face, stuffing it in her mouth.

“I have no time for pretensions to modesty. Unlace your stays.”

She took her time, loosening the ribbons one by one as he stood above her, arms folded and glowering. When the stays were sufficiently undone, she shrugged off the shoulders and lifted her breasts out of the brassiere, presenting them like a plate of delicacies ( _eet tastes of despair_ , she thought, and stifled the urge to giggle). Fenris did not respond, but his face relaxed almost unnoticeably, and she began playing with her nipples. When she went to pull the bandanna out of her mouth, he leant down and stuffed it back in, tying it tightly behind her head with the words “I do not need your mouth for anything tonight.” At her _mmf?_ of surprise he merely replied “You heard me.”  _Oooh, clever_ , she thought.  _Let’s see who wins_  that  _little challenge_.

Squeezing her breasts together, she was able to bring them up to her face and nuzzle them through the cloth. He was clearly getting hard under those leggings, but he continued to stare her down as she rolled her fingertips over her nipples, shrivelled like little blackberries. When she tried to put one hand between her legs he kicked at her arm with a “Nn-nn.” She glared at him and he glared back.

She stood up – he didn’t stop her – and pulled the tight garment down over her hips, leaving herself in black smalls, jewellery and boots. Watching him carefully, she turned around to give him a full view of her enormous heart-shaped arse, and noting the sudden dilation of his pupils and the full attention he was giving that arse, she slowly rolled the smalls over the right cheek, then the left, then bent over to pull them past her boots, getting them stuck in the buckles as she went. Standing back up, she made a show of waving her hands at her bum like a prize display at the Black Emporium – _this rare specimen from Rivain, burnished bronze, sought after by adventurers from many lands, messere._

Fenris had his hand on his mouth, deep in thought, clearly wondering what to do with her next. Isabela slapped her own rump, rolling it about under her still-armoured hands, in the hope of giving him ideas. Whether it worked specifically was hard to tell, but he moved forward and picked her clothes up off the floor. She must have looked startled or disappointed or something – she certainly felt like slave-Fenris wasn’t what she’d signed up for – because he pulled the blue scarf she kept draped around her waist off the white corset and held it up for her to look at.

“Put your hands on the railing.” She went to walk up to the stairs but he stopped her with a hand to her sternum, forcing her to bend over to reach the staircase. This left her bent almost at a right angle, her breasts hanging beneath her like bags of gold. She made sure her feet were shoulder-width apart.

Threading the blue scarf through the railing, he wrapped it through and around her wrists, tying it snugly. A frail elder could have escaped it with a bit of effort, but it certainly  _felt_  firm and unyielding, not that ‘bela had any plans of going anywhere just as it was getting fun. “Don’t move.” She watched as he strode across the great hall and disappeared into the corridor.

Well, this was entertaining, so far. She enjoyed being near-naked, although she could have been a bit less cold, and she would definitely have to teach the elf a bit about knots. Still, it wasn’t a terrible knot, and she could feel juice dripping between her nether lips as she anticipated what Ser Broodypants might come up with.

Being a rogue, Isabela was quite flexible, so holding herself in an L-shape didn’t cause much irritation at first. After five minutes, she got bored and stepped inwards, doing a few squats to prepare her legs for what she hoped would be an onslaught of fucking the likes of which would be sung by troubadors the world over. Torn between being disobedient (and therefore being punished) or following orders to the letter, she decided to move back into position, reasoning that the sight of her arse as he re-entered the hall should stop him in his tracks. She held it for a few more minutes, as the sunlight coming in through the holes in the ceiling faded to nothing. When he did not reappear, she considered calling for him, but would that ruin it all? Void take him, why was there nothing interesting to look at in this room? Well, except for those creepy statues. Patience, ‘bela! Soon the Broody Prince will return and give you a seeing-to such as you’ve never experienced. Goosebumps covered her skin.

After what seemed like an Age she caught movement out of the corner of her eye as Fenris opened the hallway door. He looked mildly irritated that she saw him, and snapped “Head down!” She looked him in the eye and slowly turned her face down between her arms.

He finally touched her, pinching her nipple almost but not quite painfully then sloshing her breast around in his hand. He’d taken off the gauntlets, so the only scratching was from the lyrium scarring that covered his palm. “Mmmmm,” she said, moving her chest, to be rewarded with a loud  _thwack!_  and a firm slap on her arse.

“I said, don’t move. I have not superseded this order.” But she wanted another spanking, so she wiggled her bum tauntingly. He was good at this, though, standing back with his arms crossed and waiting for her like he had all night. She stopped wiggling.

He pulled a wooden spoon out of his back pocket, of all things, and began tapping at her nipples with the bowl side, his motivation seemingly musical rather than punishing.  _Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap_ … at first it was stimulating, then frustrating, then irritating. Isabela glared at Fenris, who pushed her head back down. But he stopped tapping and rubbed her nipples with the spoon, making her breasts jostle.

He stood close enough that she could feel his erection bumping up against her ribcage. After a couple more decisive whacks with the spoon he walked behind her and just stood there, hopefully appreciating the view. She arched her back just a little bit and clenched her pelvic muscles, making her muff wink at him. She heard a ‘hmf’ and then nothing, but movement at the very edge of her vision suggested he was taking himself in hand. When she dipped her head to try to watch through her legs, he snapped “Eyes up.”

As much as he was apparently trying to be silent, his breath was becoming louder and heavier, hollow as he tried to breathe open-mouthed to keep quiet. Still, it was very obvious that his resistance was crumbling, and she smiled around the blue scarf when he padded across the hallway to kneel behind her.

He placed a hand on each ample cheek, his breath tickling the black thatch between her legs, and squeezed and kneaded her flesh like baker’s dough, occasionally giving her a firm slap. His tongue lapped ticklishly at her buttocks, tracing a pattern up her crack then moving away just as she made a deep  _hnnnnnng_  noise through the gag. Peeking down between her legs she could see his cock jutting out of his leggings – not especially huge, but  _‘bela like_ , nonetheless – and she twitched to think of having it inside her, in any way possible and maybe not so possible. ( _Wouldn’t it be funny if he phased WHOA MAKER do that again_ )

The slaps got more frequent as the elf kissed, tongued and bit her buttocks, ignoring every other part of her, occasionally flicking his tongue deep into her arse then backing away as she squealed and pushed back into him. He stood up and put his cock between the tops of her thighs, pushing her legs together and thrusting, not quite touching her bloated pussy and spanking her hard when she tried to bend her knees. “Up!” Cold cum seeped onto her thighs and she moaned as he ran a thumb across her anus.

He pulled away from her and took a few deep breaths. Isabela felt hollowed out – a sharp pain ran the length of her vagina and she could only hope he was going to at least show her the fisting trick. She squeezed her pelvic muscles again, only to hear him snort and whack her with the spoon. “Kneel,” he ordered, and she dropped to her knees. “Turn around.” At her questioning glance he smirked and said “I don’t care how you do it,” so she twisted around awkwardly, putting her head under one wrist and shuffling til she was seated on her bum on the cold tiles, arms tied above her head, legs wide apart to expose the fat little clit poking out of her bush, juices dripping down her gash.

He stood over her, tunic undone to expose his muscular chest – exactly what she’d been imagining ever since that night they picked him up in the alienage – a small, neat diamond of black hair leading down to his erect prick. Isabela stuck her tongue against the gag and tried to say something, only to have Fenris kneel in front of her and place his hand firmly over her mouth. “You really  _do_  want to be thrown out into the street, don’t you?” He began stroking his cock with the other hand, rubbing the head against her nipples, leaving trails of precum on her breasts as he moved between them. Taking his hand off her mouth, he grabbed her breast roughly and rubbed his cock up against it, breath coming in jagged bursts until finally he stopped, panting, letting her thrust her pussy up at him and plead with her eyes. He knelt in front of her for what felt like a stupidly long time, letting her admire his cock and abs, pulling down his leggings to play with his balls and laughing at her when she screamed against the gag and wrenched forward. Eventually, he got up and fiddled with the scarf at her wrists, letting her nuzzle his prick with her face, but instead of releasing both her hands he untied the left, secured the right even harder, and, settling back to kneel in front of her, said “You may satisfy yourself.”

“Oh,  _may_  I?” was ‘bela’s response (well, _mmm MMM mmm_?), but she was so close now, and she wanted to drag it out, so she reached down and spread herself apart with her fingers so he could see exactly how wet and open she was. He was resting his hands on her knees, liquid bubbling at the eye of his cock and oozing down the veins prominently branching down its length, and his eyes were absolutely focused on her centre. She put a single finger into her cunt, not wanting to touch her clit and set herself off, and slowly thrust it in and out, taking it out and reaching for Fenris’ cock. He slapped her hand away and resumed masturbating, hissing “Fuck yourself”.

She wriggled her bottom forward a few inches and fingered her arsehole, dripping with cunt juice, eyes locked on Fenris’ as a challenge. He placed one hand over the knot at her right wrist and, squeezing her hand, began pumping his cock hard, aiming for her breasts. Finally,  _finally_  he groaned “I’m going to come. You can join me or not.” ‘bela quickly changed to fingering her clit, all the blood in her body racing to her cunt as she rubbed herself in exactly the right place, and when she crashed forward he joined her instead, ropes of white come splashing all over her breasts and belly as she shuddered from head to foot.

Both of them sagged heavily on the staircase, hearts pounding, legs numb, yet Fenris kept an iron grip on the knot at her wrist. When ‘bela looked up at him, he smiled faintly, leant forward, and kissed her forehead gently. Then, staggering to his feet, he began rearranging himself – putting his rapidly shrinking cock away, lacing himself up, hooking up the eyes of his tunic. The pirate watched him, waiting to see what he did next. When he had completed the eyes – there were so many of them! – he looked down at her and said “You can free yourself.” He walked up the stairs behind her as she scrambled to pull herself out of the knot he had made. It took longer than usual because she was hurrying; even though it was no more than a tight granny knot, he was gone when she freed herself and ran up to his room. She hung out the window, still undressed, but he was gone and she pulled back inside, mildly disappointed at not having been caught by anyone.

She used his pillowslip to clean herself up, and drew a huge spunking cock on the wall with her dagger before she left.

~

A month later.

“That night. I can’t stop thinking about it…”


End file.
